


Tidal Patterns

by LibraLibrary



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: F/F, Meet-Cute, Now featuring glorious Mama Ben, OT3, Pre-OT3, Pre-Series, also some of Ben’s dragons are pets for the boys, chapter 3 is set around the time of the 87 cent solution I think, della duck being a useless lesbian, della duck has a type and that type is tall nature goddess, della duck is a lesbian chad don't @ me, gay rights!!!, if you consider being pulled out of the ocean by a water deity with bde cute, more tags as i post more chapters, points at Louie I DIAGNOSE YOU WITH ANXIETY, rated for some innuendos swears and the possibility of some intimate stuff later, self indulgent oc/canon/canon, seriously this whole thing is self indulgent, so jot that down
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-06-30 06:30:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15746187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraLibrary/pseuds/LibraLibrary
Summary: Good lord she’s beautiful, was Della’s first thought, followed by wow, right now Del? You’re gonna do this now?Della Duck has two hands and a goddess on each arm. Nobody's surprised, the McDuck-Duck clan has always been known for being chick magnets.Self indulgent pre-canon OC/canon/canon lesbian OT3. First two chapters in chronological order, later chapters a collection of Drabble and oneshots that jump all over the place.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm exhausted from animefest and wanna keep the lesbian ball rolling so have some self-indulgent shid
> 
> ben is my baby and im mad at myself for not writing her earlier

So the  _ good _ news was that Della wasn’t in a fiery plane caught in a death spiral anymore, because ejection seats are actually kinda great it turns out. The  _ bad _ news is that was actually a lie, because for whatever reason her seatbelt was  _ stuck, _ and the flaming plane may have crashed off in the distance, but the dry land under her was definitely  _ not _ dry land but actually the  _ storm-churned ocean _ , and now Della was really starting to regret not staying on the boat to fight back against the pirates attacking their latest adventure. 

 

_ Man,  _ Della thought to herself, as her seat smashed into the waves and began to sink like a stone,  _ if I make it out alive Donald’s gonna kill me.  _

 

The water was, of course, extremely cold, sinking underneath her clothes and already beginning to numb her fingers as they continued to grapple with the straps binding her to the sinking seat. She was doing her best not to panic, because panic only used up more of her precious limited oxygen, and hey she’d made it out of tougher scrapes right? All the same, each passing moment the metal fasteners refused to yield, the violent water grew calmer, darker, as she sank into the depths. Naturally Donald was certainly heading full steam for where the tumultuous wind had carried her, and she knew that no doubt Uncle Scrooge would be diving in with a hunting knife to saw off the offending belts and drag her back to the surface so they could both yell at her for such a stupid stunt. Of course they were coming for her. Any second now. 

 

She just wished, struggling with her eyes shut tight against the burning salt and stinging cold, that they’d  _ hurry the hell up already.  _

 

Something soft brushed against her hands, and she didn’t really pay attention to it at first, because how could some loose seaweed help or hurt her situation? It took her a second to realize how soft the long tendrils swirling in the water to brush against her face were, how...not-seaweed-ish. Yeah. There was also the matter of another set of hands starting to tug at the belts around her trunk, and the faintest hint of soft blue illumination just barely tinting the darkness under her lids. 

 

Alright, that wasn’t normal at all. Della forced her eyes open, quirking her brow in confusion as her unexpected guest turned their gaze from the small stone dagger tearing at the fabric restraints up to her face. 

 

It was a woman. A  _ pretty  _ woman, her lovely face framed by cascading hair spreading out and gently drifting about around the two of them, dark and shining eyes meeting her gaze with an air of calm determination. The source of the slight illumination seemed to be the flowing dress that fanned out in the darkness of the water, tiny inlaid designs glowing faintly against the dark fabric despite the absence of light to reflect. 

 

_ Good lord she’s beautiful _ , was Della’s first thought, followed by  _ wow, right now Del? You’re gonna do this  _ **_now_ ** _? _

 

Just as the edges of her vision were starting to give way to encroaching static, Della felt the belts snap and fall away, and the mysterious woman had her arm under hers immediately, hauling her back up to the surface. She emerged first, yanking Della up past the point where water and wind mingled, and the pilot wheezed as the cold, salty air finally rushed back into her lungs. She had instinctively begun to tread water, bracing herself to be slapped around alongside her rescuer in the tempest, but…

 

She opened her eyes, blinking in the minimal grey light of the storm. While the wind still howled around the pair, the angry sea thrashing violently in all directions, the water around them was preternaturally smooth, extending in an approximate ten foot radius with them at the center. It took a moment, but Della soon realized that this odd area of peace extended to the sky; the driving rain respected the same parameters, the wind howling past her face cool but ultimately dry. While she took a moment to process this, the strange woman took initiative, ducking underneath her arm and hauling her towards the shore of the tiny islet Della had  _ meant _ to land on. As they moved through the water, faster than Della had expected from a woman burdened by a freezing and waterlogged passenger, she noticed the circle of exclusion moving with them. 

 

_ Oh,  _ Della thought.  **_Oh._ **

 

The duo reached the rocky shore in record time, and the willowy stranger quickly climbed up onto the surface of the nearest boulder, hauling Della up with a surprising strength, before cautiously half leading, half carrying her to the mouth of a nearby cave. Once inside, the empty sky just beyond the opening filled once again with a driving rain, though despite the angle of the wind, no droplets seemed to pass the threshold. The woman eased Della onto the ground, reaching behind her and, in one fluid motion, pulling a blanket up and over her shaking shoulders. She then stood, crossing over to the wall of the cavern and fiddling with a torch, and it took Della’s mind a moment to catch up with the absurd situation (yeah that’s why she was so slow to react, the outlandishness of it all, certainly not the way the lady’s hips swayed under her shimmering fabric as she moved- _ not NOW Della!).  _ She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulder, only mildly surprised that her clothes, though still chilled, were bone dry. 

 

Across the chamber, a soft  _ fwoosh  _ announced the arrival of flickering torchlight, and the lady’s beak turned up in a smile as she returned to the center of the cave. She dipped the torch into a small pit in the floor, igniting a pre-prepared sunken fireplace, and Della sighed gratefully as the warmth rolled over her. She looked up at the woman, taking in her satisfied look and the soft, rich teal hair cascading down her front like twin waterfalls, before shifting to bow her head and upper body in reverence. 

 

“Thank you, my lady. I owe you my life.”

 

The blue-clad woman snorted, and Della looked back up with a grin. “You’ve figured out who I am, huh?”

 

“You weren’t gasping for breath when we got to the surface, and the laws of fluid dynamics don’t seem to apply to you. Water goddess, am I right?”

 

The goddess’s eyes shined in the firelight, and she chuckled. “You’re a smart one, mortal. Something like that.”

 

The deity crossed over to a nook in the naturally carved rock, retrieving a silvery kimono and tying it loosely off her shoulders, tossing her long hair and sending it cascading down her back like the water she held dominion over. Della watched her intently, absolutely fascinated. “Y-yeah, well, this actually isn’t my first encounter with a goddess if I’m being honest-“

 

“Oh? So I’m not your first?”

 

The goddess glanced over her shoulder with a smirk, and Della felt her face warming faster than the fire roaring in front of her.  _ Oh hell yes.  _ “Yeah uh, my uncle and my brother and I, we’ve been to Ithaquack a few times, hung out with Selene-“

 

The goddess clapped her hands and spun on her heels at this, face lighting up with glee. “You know Seely? Uncle and brother? So you’re Della Duck then!”

 

Della choked out a laugh in surprise. “You know  _ me _ ?”

 

“Selene talks about you all the time,” the goddess gushed, coming over to sit by the fire herself, “whenever we meet up she tells me all about you and your family. Honestly? The three of you are a pretty popular topic of conversation on Ithaquack nowadays; the bravest group of mortals most of us have ever met!”

 

Della was  _ absolutely  _ blushing at that point, flattered beyond belief, until she realized…

 

“My family! Uncle Scrooge and Donald, they’ll still be looking for me-“

 

The goddess lifted one hand, and Della fell silent as a dark shape slithered forth from the shadows in the back of the cave. The lengthy creature snaked its way towards the opening of the cave, pausing briefly to glance back at the mortal woman with curious eyes, before dragging itself over to the edge of the tumultuous water and vanishing into the dark sea. “Don’t worry, Mizuchi will lead them here. The storm will pass any minute now. You’re very lucky, Della Duck, your accident happened at just about the best place in the world for it.”

 

“Heh, no kidding. It’s not every day a goddess pulls my idiot ass out of the drink like some sort of fairy tale. I’d call myself lucky to just meet you, my lady.”

 

Della was emboldened at that point, ending with a wink that had her new friend chuckling. “Likewise, Della Duck; I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been hoping I’d run into you at some point. Of course,” she coughed into her fist, glancing away awkwardly, “you probably could’ve done without almost drowning and all.”

 

The adventurer laughed at that, waving her off. “It’s nothing I’m not used to. And by the way,” she cleared her throat, feeling a blush returning to her cheeks, “feel free to call me Della if you’d like, my lady.”

 

The goddess smiled, arms around her knees as she tilted her head amicably. “You mortals have a lot of names for me, but Seely calls me Ben. You can too, if you’d like.”

 

Oh yeah, she’d like. She’d  _ really  _ like. 

 

They carried on their conversation for what could’ve been a few minutes, or maybe a few hours, not even noticing as the rain tapered off and the water smoothed out, until Mizuchi re-emerged from the ocean, flicking beads of water from his scaly tail and nodding his long snout back out towards the ocean. Della jumped to her feet, rushing over to the mouth of the cave to see, and turned back to Ben with a smile. “It’s Donald and Uncle Scrooge, they’re heading this way!”

 

Ben came over to stand alongside her dragon companion and mortal friend, leaning against the stone wall of her dwelling, and the trio watched as the two ducks in the distance lowered their lifeboat and began to make their way to the shore. She nudged the duck playfully. “You should get going then, wouldn’t want those pirates to come back for round two and shoot you down again. Maybe next time,” she winked conspiratorially as she teased, “I won’t be there to rescue you when you crash.”

 

Della stuck out her tongue in response as if she were talking to any normal acquaintance, eliciting a chuckle. “Yeah, and risk Selene getting mad at you for not saving her favorite mortal? Fat chance.”

 

The duo laughed heartily, and Della waved towards her family as Donald gestured wildly, damn near upturning the boat much to Scrooge’s chagrin. Ben placed her hand on the small of Della’s back, and for a second she swore her heart was gonna drop straight out of her chest at the contact. She tilted her head to glance at the water deity, suddenly very reluctant to start making her way to the edge of the water. “I’ll…um, I’ll see you around then? We’re actually planning on visiting Ithaquack for the Lenaia, maybe we could hang out with Selene...”

 

She trailed off, and Ben winked. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

Della’s face lit up, and she turned back to head over to meet up with her family, until she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Before she could turn back around, Ben had leaned in, her face so close beside Della’s that their cheeks were almost touching, and the poor adventurer could just about feel the entire world slow to a crawl as the goddess whispered to her. 

 

_ “I am the goddess of all that flows, water and knowledge and time; the water of this world obeys me, and favors those I choose, and as a friend and ally of mine, I grant you this: for the rest of your life, I give you my word, you will never face death in the form of water. This is my gift to you, Della Duck.” _

 

Ben drew away and patted Della on the back, and the young woman stumbled forward a bit before straightening up and running over to the shore, still dazed and elated over receiving the blessing of such a powerful being. 

 

Ben watched with a wistful smile as Donald flung himself out of the lifeboat and just about bowled Della over with a hug. The adventurer spoke quickly and excitedly to both her twin and her uncle, and eventually turned back to wave at Ben, who saluted back. Donald shot her a grateful smile,mouthing a  _ thank you _ , and back in the boat, Scrooge respectfully tipped his hat. With one final look back, Della climbed into the boat, continuing to relate the tale of her divine rescue as her family began the journey back to the ship. 

 

Ben sighed contentedly, then shot a glare at Mizuchi, who looked up at her knowingly. “...What?”

 

The dragon shook his head, slinking his way back inside as Ben shouted back at him.  _ “What? _ I’m not gonna apologize okay, she’s cute and I’m weak!”

 


	2. Tide Pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Della Duck has two hands and boy howdy it's time to use them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was told this is so far the only work tagged with Dellene and Selene wasn't even in it until now what in god's name people

The first sign that Della was either in absolute paradise or way over her head came the moment Ben arrived at Ithaquack. Selene had giddily grabbed her and tossed her into the air like a weightless toy when she’d been given the news, over the moon (forgive the pun) that her old girlfriend was on the way for a visit with the two of them. 

 

(“So, girlfriend in the “old and close friend who happens to be a girl” way, or are we talking the “we love women yes we do” way?” Della had asked. 

 

“Yes,” Selene replied.

 

Oh _ hell yes.) _

 

Naturally, being a water goddess and all, Della knew that Ben’s entrance would probably be dramatic and flashy, so she was completely surprised at how simple, and yet so  _ breathtaking,  _ her arrival actually was. One minute she and Selene had been off on their own by the waterfront, the next, a sizeable wave broke a ways off the shore, surged in to cover the sand, and retreated, leaving behind a slender figure, draped in dark blues and shimmery silvers, long teal tresses pulled back. She had stepped out of the ankle deep surf with absolute grace, and for a brief moment, the look she gave both of the women on shore had Della wondering if her heart was still beating. 

 

The next moment, Ben had closed the distance between herself and Selene, pulling the slightly taller goddess into a kiss so cinematic there was probably a Hollywood producer choking on their champagne somewhere, and now Della  _ knew  _ her heart had stopped, because it had shot all the way into her throat. 

 

Holy god. Holy. Almighty.  _ God.  _

 

Ben pulled away finally, and Selene pulled her into a crushing hug. “It’s been too long Benny, what, two years? Three?”

 

“Ha! Try five, Seely. I need to get you a calendar or something, you Olympians are so bad about time.”

 

Selene stuck out her tongue. “Oh please, and make it easier to count the days between visits? You’re breaking my heart, Ben!”

 

The water goddess rolled her eyes, giving Selene a playful punch in the arm before turning to Della. A massive smile spilled out across her face, and she glided over to stoop down and throw her arms around the mortal. “Hello again Della!”

 

The contact pulled Della out of her dazed reverie, and she was pleased to discover that her time with Selene had made reciprocating the hug of a literal god an automatic response. Maybe she was getting better at not being a completely useless lesbian!

 

“Hhhhhhhi Ben.”

 

Or not, whatever. 

 

Ben drew back, cocking a brow and smirking. “So, tried out that blessing yet?”

 

Selene lit up, shooting Della an incredulous look, and the mortal beamed. “The moment we got home I jumped into the pool!”

 

“Good lord Della, it’s winter, the water had to be freezing!”

 

“Well yeah, and that’s why I kinda accidentally breathed in when I hit the water, but nothing happened! And then when Uncle Scrooge pulled me out he was shivering, but I didn’t feel cold at all!”

 

Ben tossed back her head with an airy laugh. “Well yeah, I said, and I quote, “you will never face death in the form of water”; that includes  _ all  _ the ways water can get you killed.”

 

Della gaped, and Selene laughed hysterically, excitedly grabbing her and jumping up and down. “That’s divine blessings for you, wording is everything and we do NOT play around!”

 

The mortal woman didn’t respond, still too starry-eyed at the implications of her new holy gift. Uncle Scrooge and Donald had, after shouting at her for the better part of an hour, been told about the inability to drown, but  _ holy god the possibilities of everything else- _

 

A loud whooping rang out elsewhere on Ithaquack, and the three women turned as the sound spread out across the island and rose in volumes. Throngs of beautifully dressed women sprinted across the sands, shouting and crashing cymbals together. The closest group was making their way in a hysterical procession towards the island’s amphitheater, with Storkules jogging alongside them, cheering heartily with a very startled Donald tucked under his arm. Selene squealed, taking Della and Ben by the hands. “The Maenads are here, time to get weird!”

 

She dragged the other two as she sprinted after the procession, and the water goddess and mortal adventurer giggled as she led the way. 

 

~*~

 

The partying had, after several solid hours of performance and copious wine consumption, finally begun to wind down in the early hours of the morning. Even the most intense devotees of Dionysus had tucked themselves into a dark corner to sleep, or had wandered off with a partner for the night. A huge chunk of revelers were still draped across the seating of the amphitheater in a sleepy wine-haze, absolutely oblivious to Storkules down on the stage, currently in act twelve of his one man tribute to the heroic exploits of Donald Duck, who was curled up in one of his arms and using one massive pectoral as a pillow. 

 

The trio of goddesses and adventurer had already snuck off, content to wander the beach under the stars. After several minutes spent chasing each other through the surf, kicking up sand and salty foam as their flowy and decorated chitons fluttered like gauzy wings behind them, the three of them gathered around a little tide pool just out of reach of the low waves. Della lay flat on her stomach at the edges, gently stroking at the bright, shimmery reflection of the moon on the surface, giggling softly when the assorted shrimps and tiny, lonely octopus in the pool brushed against the digits inquisitively. Selene leaned over her, sticking out her tongue. “What, you’re gonna play with the reflection when the real thing is right here? Rude.”

 

With a devilish smirk, Della rolled over, slapping a large splash of water at Selene’s face as the goddess shrieked with playful indignance. On the other side of the pool, Ben was in hysterics at the antics, wiping her eyes as Della scrambled to her feet to grapple with her taller girlfriend. “Careful Seely, this one’s fearlesss~!”

 

Selene tried to glance over Della’s shoulder at Ben, a playful insult catching and dying in her mouth as Della took the distraction as an opportunity. To her credit, Selene wasn’t caught off guard, immediately dropping her arms to wrap around Della’s waist as she kissed her back, drunk on the aftertaste of exquisite wine and dizzy affection. Kissing Selene had always been exhilarating, running her hands through that pillow-soft blonde hair and losing herself in the breathless embrace. She pulled away with a satisfied gasp, filling her lungs with the cool, wet air. Selene smiled at her through half-lidded eyes, an immortal utterly enchanted by the mortal she’d invited into her life and bedchamber several times before. 

 

There was a soft sigh behind Della, and she turned to look over her shoulder as Selene grinned at the water goddess still seated at the edge of the pool. Ben rested her chin in her hands, gazing dreamily at the duo. “Don’t mind me ladies, this is the best show all night.”

 

Della glanced back at Selene, who’s eyes sparkled with mischief.  _ Do it _ , they said,  _ please make this happen, we’ve all been waiting for this all day.  _ The duck smirked, turning back to Ben and strolling over with a sultry gaze. “You know,” she started, boldly reaching out to brush a stray lock of wet bangs off of the suddenly starstruck goddess’s forehead, “I was always raised to share.”

 

Ben nodded numbly, yet another divine brought to her knees by the adventuring queen of Duckburg. “Y-yeah? Why don’t you-“

 

She was cut off by another beak pressed against her, and the mother of waters absolutely  _ melted.  _

 

It had been several decades since Ben’s last mortal girlfriend, and she had no idea whether the surprising thrill of the moment came more from being out of practice, or from the woman playing with her ponytail and dropping her hand low down her back (wayyyy low, oh  _ very low,) _ being just  _ that good.  _ No wonder Selene was so attached to this one, no wonder she’d felt, when diving into the cool waters of her home to rescue an unfortunate pilot, that she was making a decision that would somehow cause a ripple effect in her long, storied life. 

 

They finally broke apart for a breath, and for a brief, hazy second, their half-lidded gazes met.  Ben chuckled, still lightheaded. “Y...you mortals have a thing now, right? Save it for the third date?” 

 

Della smirked. “Technically the second date was yesterday, it’s already tomorrow, right?”

 

They glanced at Selene, who shrugged with an amused grin, and then they both turned back to each other and moved at once for an encore of frenzied affection. A pair of strong, slender arms wrapped around Della’s midsection, and she broke the furious kiss with a startled and adorable squeak. Ben took the distraction as an opportunity to take control of the situation, peppering soft kisses up and down Della’s shoulder and neck, revisiting the spot where she’d leaned in to bestow her exclusive blessing. Della choked back an excited noise, and Selene leaned against her other shoulder. 

 

“Do you randy morons think you can hold it together until we get back to my temple? Not to be lame, we’re just kiiiiinda in public still.”

 

Oh why the hell not, they’d waited all day anyways, what was five more minutes. 

 

~*~

 

Della stirred gently in the soft sun of the morning peeking in through the temple, instinctively reaching to rub the sleep out of her eyes until she realized she was pinned. Still dazed from sleep and festivities, she glance up to her right, a smile lazily spreading across her beak at the sight of Selene, face framed by loose flaxen hair as she dozed, feathers gleaming with the same delicate glow as the moon she reigned over in the soft shadows. That explained one trapped limb, her arm wound around Selene’s back and waist, still ghosting over her tail under the sheets. 

 

Right, and the other one? And what about that odd weight on her side?

 

She looked down, and then blinked. Ah. Right. Ben. Ben the water goddess. Who was currently resting her head on a pillow of her own spilling teal tresses and Della’s chest, and clinging to her as she slept. It took Della a second to register, but she quickly realized that the sound of the waves down below on the beach were echoed in the rise and fall of Ben’s chest, the soft music of her waters in tandem with her breath.  _ Damn _ , Della mused,  _ that’s neat.  _

 

She yawned, settling back into the soft bedding underneath the three of them. Outside, birds chirped, revelers picked themselves up from their drunken resting places, and Storkules was wrapping up his, what, 116th? song of praise for his now awake and very hungover mortal boyfriend. 

 

The temple of Selene was quiet and peaceful. 

 

And then Della’s eyes shot open as it sunk in. There was a goddess, like, a LITERAL goddess tucked under each of her arms. 

 

Most mortals could only dream, only desperately wish for, a singular, fleeting encounter with a god. Della had just slept with, spoken breathless and genuine words of care and affection to,  _ two  _ of them. 

 

“....holy  _ god.” _

 

“God _ s,  _ Della my love, gods plural,” Selene murmured sleepily, eyes still closed. 

 

“Goddesses, if you want to get technical about it,” Ben chimed in, face still buried in Della’s chest. 

  
Right. Holy  _ goddesses _ . Okay. 


	3. Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment I’ve been waiting for since the end of the first episode happens in like ten hours and that gave me some serious mixed emotions so I ended up venting by writing Ben being a Mom and Louie being the sensitive kid he is. Happy Mother’s Day I gotta go take my antidepressant.

Ben followed the sensation of water calling out to her, the tiny ghost droplets of saline sending a cold crackle of electricity down her spine. The phantom tears hit the zenith of their intensity by the door of what she recognized as an expansive hall closet, and as she leaned against the wall, she found she couldn’t repress a sigh. She knew the cadence and the tone of those tiny, miserable whimpers all too well. She lightly tapped her knuckles against the wall  _ (not the door, knock too hard on the door and it’ll rattle and that’ll stress him out more) _ , softly calling out to the duckling she knew was hiding in the dark. “Louie? May I?”

 

She held her breath, listening carefully as the sniffles behind the wall continued. Several seconds passed without a response, and despite her initial instinct urging her to knock again, insisting that perhaps he hadn’t heard, she held back. She had to be patient. 

 

Quietly, almost imperceptible due to the weak force applied, two tiny knocks echoed from inside the closet. Ben felt the corner of her beak twitch, and she slowly opened the door. 

 

The faint crack of light streaming past the slightly opened door stopped just shy of the opposite wall, though Ben didn’t need the light to make out the tiny, trembling shape huddled into the corner. She carefully slipped in, dropping into a crouch to approach eye level with the child. “Would you like me to go get anyone else?”

 

Louie remained curled up as small as he could be in the corner, but after a moment he glanced up from underneath his pulled up hood, eyes wide and dripping. His crying hadn’t slowed or abated one bit, and as he shook his head wordlessly and choked out another sob, Ben could almost feel her ancient heart beginning to crack. As desperate as she was to hold the boy, hold her son, and tell him it was okay, she knew it wasn’t the right step to take at the moment. “Alright,” she said softly, “that’s alright. Do you want me to go get the scarf?”

 

This time there was no hesitation, and Louie nodded before furiously wiping at his cheek with one loose sleeve. Ben nodded back before rising and cracking the door once more. “I’ll be right back,” she reassured the boy, before slipping back out into the hall and quietly shutting the door. As she took her first steps towards the room he shared with his brothers, she could faintly hear a soft wail inside the closet. 

 

Ben quickened her pace. 

 

*~*~*

 

Huey and Webby had been in the middle of a heated but civil debate about the existence of some mythical creature (which Ben could probably confirm or deny if she had the time) when she entered the room, and both of their smiles and happy greetings died off when they saw the concern etched into her face. Swearing internally, the water goddess took a deep breath and forced herself to wear a more placid expression. “Huey dear, I need to borrow the scarf, alright?”

 

The two children immediately understood the situation, and as Huey leapt to his feet and ran to the closet where the boys kept their cherished duffel bag, Webby wrung the hem of her skirt in worry. “Is he okay?”

 

Ben responded with a gentle smile, accepting the long blue scarf from Huey and playfully tapping the brim of his cap over his face. “He will be. Promise.”

 

The two nodded hesitantly, still visibly concerned over the thought of someone they loved in distress, but they’d both had enough experience to understand: Ben had asked for the scarf, not assistance. Whatever had set Louie off, he preferred space this time around. They would have to trust her to take care of this. So they did, reluctantly turning back to their research materials as Ben made her way back down the hall. 

 

Ben was able to keep her composure until about halfway through her return trip, forced to stop and lean against the wall as a sharp burst of despair spread out from the center of her chest. Her fingers dug into the soft blue fabric in her hands, and she could feel in her bones the faintest, distant sensation of trace amounts of ocean water, long since wrung out and left to dry, calling out from the material. 

 

Ben knew this scarf, and she knew it well. She had first seen it all those years ago, fanning out alongside her own flowing locks in the dark, chilling depths of the sea. She had felt it plastered against her arms as she had pulled the wearer from the water, playfully snatched it away in an lighthearted chase, nuzzled into it on cold nights as three forms huddled against the elements, shielded by a tangle of limbs and love. 

 

_ Della,  _ Ben thought to herself, forcing back the tears that threatened to defy her control and choking on an abrupt inhale,  _ oh my poor Della.  _

 

She had to regain her composure, had to keep going. Her poor Della’s son, her poor son, was waiting. She couldn’t break right now. She steadied herself with a shaky breath, and forced herself to finish her walk to the neglected closet. 

 

_ Tap tap.  _ “Louie honey, I’m back.”

 

The pause was shorter this time, though the muffled weeping hadn’t changed volume or intensity.  _ Tap tap _ came the reply, and Ben once again slipped inside. This time she crossed over to the wall before sitting, trying to make herself as small as possible instead of towering over the duckling as usual. She held up the scarf, and while Louie’s pained expression remained constant, his eyes seemed drier, as if he had already exhausted his supply of tears. He shakily reached up to pull his hood back off, and Ben helped the trembling child wrap the scarf around his neck and shoulders. 

 

Their task complete, Ben drew back to study the boy, and despite having watched him grow from the day he lazily crawled out of his egg, she was still affected by just how tiny he looked, curled into a corner, huddled in his slightly too large hoodie, and draped in a scarf that could circle himself and his brothers all at once. He was so  _ small,  _ so  _ young, _ and so intensely  _ hurt.  _ The instinct to hug her boy and shield him from whatever might’ve sparked the latest breakdown hissed inside her skull once more, but she knew better. 

 

“Do you want some space?”

 

Louie glanced back up at her, and she held her breath as he made eye contact. His expression, so full of sadness he should’ve been too young to be so familiar with, was hard to decipher, but after a moment, he took a deep breath, shaking his head. Ben finally allowed herself a slight smile, feeling a pressing weight lift off of her heart as she shuffled around to press her back against the wall. 

 

_ He trusts you,  _ she thought to herself as Louie finally pulled himself from the corner, choosing to instead lean into her side.  _ Your son trusts you,  _ and she could feel the banished tears from earlier trying to make their return as she wound her arm around the little shape pressing against her kimono and nuzzling into the scarf. Once they were both settled and comfortable, Ben asked one last question. “Would you like to talk about it?”

 

Louie was completely still against her side, save the soft shifting of his breathing, and for a brief moment she wondered if he had been so drained by his fit that he had instantly fallen asleep. After a second of empty air, he squeaked out a quiet “no”. Ben nodded, and the two sat in a peaceful, bittersweet silence for a short time. Inside the secluded closet, distant enough from the rest of the house that the comings and goings of all the other residents were all but inaudible. 

 

_ God, I’m so proud of you.  _ Ben could almost hear Della’s voice in her ear, and she automatically held Louie a little closer. Maybe it was wishful thinking; ten years of grief without direct interaction with her sons, centuries before that with no experience in solving the emotional crises of a distressed child, she could never be really sure whether or not she was doing as good a job at this whole motherhood thing as she should. As Della could. 

 

Maybe it was enough that she was willing to try. Maybe it was enough that her love was patient enough to listen before she leapt. 

 

The silence was broken by a gentle scratching and whining at the base of the door, and Ben’s automatic response died in her throat as her son, still shaking slightly, let out a low whistle. A tiny, dark shape squirmed under the space between the bottom of the door and the wooden floor, and the little creature skittered across the space, claws clicking on the hardwood. Aiso crawled into the pocket of Louie’s hoodie, and he reached down to scratch the tiny scaled head that peered out of the other end as he sighed and leaned back into his mother’s side. 

 

Ben finally allowed a genuine smile as Louie’s shuddering tapered off, and the tiny room settled into a peaceful, much more comfortable quiet as Aiso purred contentedly. 

 

“...mama Ben?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“...tell me a story about Mom.”

 

Ben chuckled softly, reaching down with her other hand to ruffle Louie’s messy feathers and more relieved than ever when she could hear the slightest faux-annoyed huff. “Oh, little man, your mother didn’t make stories, she made  _ sagas…” _

  
  



End file.
